


Views & Perspectives

by jaimistoryteller



Series: Askew Perspectives [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Friendship, Gwen Lived, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Soulmates AU - Identifying Marks, Talk Boxes are Chattery, White is an Insulting Ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 14:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11946609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimistoryteller/pseuds/jaimistoryteller
Summary: After a magical incident that leads to an unexpected discovery, it changes in Peter’s relationship with Wade. Aunt May just wants to shake her head and sigh, because why do boys have such a hard time communicating?  Perhaps time is the only thing needed for them to figure things out.





	1. Empathy

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes:** White  & Yellow are part of Wade’s personality and not from outside sources. White’s an asshole
> 
> /Yellow\, >White<, ~Wade thinking at them~
> 
> -Skype/texting-  
>  _“Skype chattering”_

May’s POV

Her nephew isn’t as good at hiding his secret identity as he thinks he is. There have been a number of little things that have added up to give it all away. Starting with the events surrounding the lizard man and Peter bringing her eggs. The washer fiasco, where everything ended up in varying shades of pink and teal. The sudden lack of sleep at night. All the times she has checked his bedroom and he has been nowhere to be found. Unexplained injuries that seem to appear and disappear just as fast. Improved reflexes when he use to be rather clumsy. Along with countless other little things.

She’s not sure if Spider-Man came about because of the fact he is a mutant and bloomed or because he is a mutate and did something. What she does know is her late brother use to study DNA and she suspected that he did something with either his or Peter’s.

All of that doesn’t matter, because she loves her nephew.

Right now she needs to figure out a way to talk with him about the problem that is currently on his mind. It’s making her empathy flare because he’s attempting to figure something out and not doing so successfully. Maybe it’s time that she lets him in on her own secret. It’s all a matter of timing, she doesn’t want to alienate him after all.

She’s in the middle of thinking about that when her nephew comes stumbling in, but this time there is something different. He brought someone with him, someone who is in so much pain mentally that she has to throw up extra shields to keep from being overwhelmed.

“Aunt May!” Peter calls out frantically.

Her nephew’s tone is nerve wracking and that has her up the stairs and at his door faster than you would think someone her age could move. Knocking on his door once as a warning, even though she’s pretty sure he can hear her, she opens it and slips in, freezing in place at the sight before her.

Sure enough Peter is Spider-Man, that’s not shocking. Instead, what is shocking is the injured looking teenager bleeding all over the room that Peter’s currently holding.

“I don’t know what happened to him, he normally heals even faster than I do.” Peter states almost in a panic.

“Alright, calm down now Peter, I’m going to get the first aid kit, you get those dirty,” she pauses as she searches for the right word because she is pretty sure she recognizes the outfit from the news, but it doesn’t seem possible that that mutant could be a teenager still since he has been around for several years, as far as she knows. “You just get all the dirty things off of him. We’ll get him fixed up in no time, I’m sure.”

Her nephew nods, and almost instantly becoming calmer, as if having something to focus on overrides his nerves.

A quick trip to the bathroom, a second one to her bedroom, and then back to Peter’s room with the supplies.

She’s not surprised to see that the young man is now wearing a sheet laid on the bed Everything else is piled up next to the bed in a bloody mess. Carefully, she studies the injury pattern, frowning when she spots the spiderweb that curves around his left shoulder, broken only by the large gash transecting the muscles. That explains why Peter is panicking. This young man is his soulmate. Well that’s definitely going to complicate things.

“Right, well then, let’s get to work. I’m going to clean the injuries and use the skin glue on them. You’re going to cover them in a light layer of webbing.” She decides as she takes another close look.

That sends her nephew into another round of shock, probably making him realize that he’s revealed his not-so-secret identity to her.

“Peter, calm down, we’ll help your friend, and then we’ll talk.” she reassures him, projecting calmness to the best of her ability.

He just nods slowly, focusing back on the subject at hand.

The next few hours are spent with them carefully cleaning each of the injuries before she uses the fake skin glue to make a temporary bond before he uses his webs, and not the ones in his shooters, to seal them. She counts fifteen different wounds, each deep and nasty but she is already seeing the first signs of healing, which is a really good thing.

When they are done, she smiles at the way Peter gently covers the sleeping man up, making sure that he’s going to stay warm.

“I’ll make tea. Get cleaned up and come downstairs,” she suggests before turning and leaving the room, her mind whirling at the new information.

Deadpool, she thinks, that’s who is currently sleeping on her nephew’s bed. That’s who apparently has the same soulmark as her nephew, that of a spiderweb that fades from red to black to blue. But she thought he was older and had an amazing healing factor? What’s keeping him from repairing himself right now?

She makes the tea on autopilot, still thinking about the situation Peter has brought home with him.

“Aunt May?” Her nephew’s voice breaks through her thoughts.

“Sit down Peter, so we can talk,” she tells him as she prepares a second cup and brings it over.

“I really don’t want to,” he mutters, a little louder he states, “I didn’t want you to know I am Spider-Man, but I didn’t know where else to bring him. I couldn’t take him to the tower, Tony hates him. I couldn’t figure out how to safely bring him to my apartment, I just got a new neighbor who likes to sit outside on the balcony.”

The strongest emotions currently pouring off him are fear and worry tinged with guilt and regret

“Peter, I love you dear, but I already knew you were Spider-Man. The only thing I’m not sure of is whether you are a mutate or a mutant.” She informs him gently, still projecting calm, because she doesn’t want to panic him.

“Wait, what?” He jumps to his feet and starts pacing. “How did you know and how do you know the difference between the two? There are mutants and mutates who don’t even know the difference.” He demands as he stares at her with wide brown eyes.

Sighing, she pats the sofa beside her, “Sit down, talk with me, there are a few things I think you’d be interested to know.”

A moment later he just about collapses onto the sofa.

“I’m a mutant, not anything big, just some empathy. Your uncle knew that, because I thought it was important that my soulmate know me, but it’s not something I really talk about. It’s part of why his death hurt so much.” She explains quietly, having to suppress the sorrow because it will not help right now. “Your parents were soulmates, though I sometimes wondered about their connection. I’ve known since shortly after Ben died that you had special abilities. What I don’t know is whether his death triggered them or not.”

“Before,” he mumbles, now giving off shock instead. “I’m a mutate.”

She nods seriously, “That answers that question. The young man upstairs, that’s Deadpool?”

“Yeah, but something happened. There was this weird blue-green light and then he was falling and I caught him but there were all these gashes and cuts and I don’t know where they are from or what’s happening to him.” Peter tells her in a rush, and she realizes his head is tilted so he can listen to their unexpected guest.

“Sounds like magic, it’s just a question of what type.” She muses, staring off into space.

“Why magic?” he groans, rubbing a hand across his face. “I don’t know anything about magic.”

Not meaning to, she finds herself softly laughing. “Isn’t that everything about being more than human?”

That startles a laugh out of him.

“Well then, waiting is probably the safe game until you have an idea what’s happening with him,” she suggests as she stands up, planning on getting them more tea.

“Aunt May, why didn’t you say anything sooner?” he asks her curiously.

“I wanted you to tell me, rather than me to tell you I know,” she answers him seriously. “It’s your secret to tell.”

He nods slowly, eyes distant as he thinks about what she means. “Thank you.” he eventually states softly, and she knows it’s for more than just letting him decide when to tell her.

“Of course,” she declares with an almost playful smile. “Now that it’s in the open, I think I am going to start cooking, because any time you’re injured you eat food like crazy.”

“My healing factor,” he mutters, the hand that had been rubbing his face shifting around to rub the nape of his neck.

“Yes that,” she agrees, “you’re welcome to come help me cook.”

He used to do that a lot when he was younger, not so much in recent years. Probably worried he’d give away his secret by being faster or some such thing.


	2. Waking

Wade’s POV

/I think we feel funny.\ Yellow sounds almost drunk.

>Think? Try know. When is the last time we felt like this?< White sounds angry, but that’s not new. White’s almost always angry about something. That’s why White’s normally the one goading him to kill, maim, and destroy.

~Can you two shut up so I can think?~ He wants to glare at them, but knows that’s not happening, not unless he stands himself in front of a mirror and actually looks, which isn’t something he likes to do.

First things first: where the fuck is he?

Slowly opening his eyes, he decides that light is the worst thing in the world, because his eyes burn. But there is something off with the light, it’s clearer than he can remember it being in recent years. More than that, his skin doesn’t feel itchy, pulled tight, or like it’s changing around on him.

Jerking upright, he hisses when he pulls at what he assumes are spiderweb stitches with  glue beneath them. Wait, what?

Looking around, he realizes he’s in a teen's bedroom. At least this room reminds him of his room as a teen. But whoever this room belong to is much more nerdy than he ever was.

“Hi,” a young man with a familiar voice greets him from the doorway. “How are you feeling?”

He jerks towards the voice, finding himself staring at a teenager with dark amber eyes, a hesitant smile, and a familiarity that confuses him.

“Wade?” there is something reassuring about the way his name is said, like it’s been said a thousand times before in so many different ways.

“Yeah, um, who are you?” he mutters, hand absently coming up to rub his scalp and freezing the moment he does. There is something off with his body. His skin doesn’t feel the way it normal does. Pushing the blankets off and ignoring the fact he only has his boxer-briefs on, he looks around the room for a mirror to look in. He wants to see what's different about himself.

/I wouldn’t do that, it never goes well for us.\ Yellow advices helpfully.

>What he said. We’re fucking ugly.< White sneers, making him hesitate.

He forces himself to ignore them in his quest for a mirror. Forgetting even that he is standing in someone else’s room almost naked with no idea who that someone else is.

/Probably the twink.\ Yellow suggests helpfully.

>Is he a twink or jailbait?< White questions almost curiously, not a tone he's used to. >Even with our fucked up memory I’m pretty sure we’re at least twenty.<

~So we’re the twink?~ he asks the boxes.

>Fuck no, we’re too ugly.<

He ignores that, looking at the young man by the door, “Mirror?”

“Open the closet,” the familiar person answers, waving a hand towards the door inside the room.

Why didn’t he think of that? He wonders as he walks, each muscle aching, towards it. He almost doesn’t want to see what the mirror’s truth will be, but he can’t stop the compulsion either. Opening it up, he tips his head to the side and studies himself, knowing something is off even though his memory is currently a hazy mess.

His skin is mostly clean even though there are several nasty scars. His eyes are a pale blue with brown amber rings and he’s bald but not the sort that comes from shaving from what he can tell. The gashes and cuts are covered in tiny sticky spiderwebs. His entire left shoulder is taken up by a spiderweb design with spiderwebs holding the gash through it shut.

What’s wrong with this picture?

>You almost look like you pre-mutant.< White quips with a snicker that makes his head ache.

“Spider-Man.” He mutters as a flash of memory flies by his mind almost too fast to catch. “I was with Spider-Man.”

“Yes you were,” the young man agrees, slowly walking towards him and stopping at his side, head tipping thoughtfully.

“I know you but I can’t place it.” He grumbles, glancing at the twink again and realizing that while the head is uncovered nothing else is and the young man is still wearing Spider-Man’s costume. Wait, what? He’s at Spider-Man’s place? He knows Spider-Man? How? When? How could he forget something like that?

He closes his eyes tightly as pain lances through them, rebelling against the light. The world suddenly starts spinning because of a burst of dizziness.

“Wade?” There is concern in that voice, and firm hands catch him as his legs give out. It’s the last thing he remembers before blacking back out.

-oOo-

Peter’s POV

He catches his friend as the taller man goes down on instinct more than anything else. This isn’t like Deadpool. Normally the mercenary turned mutant is all over the place and healing so much faster. Carefully he carries Wade back to his bed, hands gentle as he settles the taller man under the blankets.

Wade’s his soulmate, he thinks, how is that even possible? They are often on opposite sides of situations. They have very different methods for dealing with situations. He hates killing or extreme violence, Wade loves both it seems. He’s not a fan of weapons, particularly those whose only purpose is killing, again Wade loves those the most. This is definitely an important revelation for him to think about.

Actually, could it be the fact that they are soulmates that they keep running into each other even when trying to avoid each other? Is there something that draws them? What makes them soulmates? Does he want to see if anything could work between them? Does he want something to work between them? There are so many questions that are racing through his mind.

“Peter?” Aunt May queries from the door to his room, “Everything okay?”

He shakes his head, turning to face her, “Yeah, I think so, he woke up for a little bit, and whatever it was affecting him seems to be fading as I can see patches of skin changing back to their regular texture.”

She nods seriously, “I just thought I would tell you the foods done,” her lips quirk upwards, “and maybe suggest a change of clothes?”

It takes him a minute to process the second part but when he does, he starts laughing. “That’s a good idea, Aunt May, I’ll be down in a bit.”

She smiles at him indulgently, shaking her head and walking away muttering about boys being silly messy people. Sometimes having sharper than normal hearing is frustrating.

Getting up, he heads over to the still open closet to pick something out to wear and get changed when he hears a wolf whistle from behind as he shimmies out of his costume. He ignores it for a moment, deciding this is no different from changing in the lockers after gym.

When he turns back around, the webbing he had used to seal the gashes is falling off and deteriorating as Wade sits up for a second time. Even more skin has returned to the normal texturing similar to a stem-pad

“Hey,” he comments almost hesitantly.

“Baby boy, you’ve done something silly,” Wade replies teasingly, rubbing his face.

Relief floods his system at the familiar nickname, “No I haven’t,” he retorts with a grin, head tipping to the side once more.

“I think you did, where are we?” the merc asks with a glance around his old room with curiosity.

“My aunt’s house. I sort of panicked when you suddenly looked like a teenager and was bleeding everywhere without healing.” He answers almost bashfully.

Wade just tips his head to the side slightly as if listening to something or someone before nodding slowly. ”Clothes? I smell food, let’s go eat.”

Snickering, because that is definitely a Deadpool sort of comment, he grabs some of his sweats out of the closet, shutting the door, and tossing them at the older man to get dressed.

 


	3. Dinner

May’s POV

She's happy that Peter seems to be relieved. She tries to drop her shields a bit, but finds a combination of pain, confusion, hopefulness, happiness, sorrow, and anger forces her to put them back up almost instantly. Wade is apparently a person of very deep emotions that can easily be considered contradictory. He might need a mind healer.

She frowns, trying to think if she knows of any. It's been a long time since she last visited with her fellow empaths and other psionic mutants. It might be a good idea to get back in  touch with them.

Sighing, she heads towards the kitchen to put the food on the table. If his emotions are getting so much more vibrant than he'll be waking up soon, she thinks. Everything she made is heavy in protein, although a lot of it is comfort food. Cheese mashed potatoes, tuna salad, hamburgers, BBQ baked beans with maple bacon, meatloaf, and every single scrap of leftovers in the fridge.

Just as she she finishes putting the dishes on the table, she hears the door to her nephew’s bedroom open and shut. It’s needed to be greased for a while now, but she hasn’t because it is a good warning as to whether he is sneaking in or out of his room when she knows he wasn’t in there just before.

She smiles as she listens to the two of them, most Peter, discussing her of all things.

Why? She wonders as they come through the door, watching the way Deadpool hesitates just past the door. Ah, the out of costume and exposed factor. Possibly the fact he looks like he’s been through a fire or three. She’s seen a lot of people who have a hard time with their physical appearance following that as a nurse. Though she needs to find out what to call him, because she is definitely not calling him Deadpool over dinner.

When he does step in the room, she watches the way his eyes dart over everything before coming to rest on her for just a moment.

“Aunt May, this is Wade.” Her nephew motions between as he does the introductions. “Wade, this is my Aunt May.”

“Ma’am,” Wade mumbles, still not looking directly at her.

“Nice to meet you Wade,” she declares warmly, deciding to project welcoming. “Now sit down and eat.”

Peter doesn’t have to be told twice and quickly takes the seat beside her while Wade is a bit slower to take the seat across from her.

How to put a mercenary who seems to need a mind healer and is apparently her nephew’s soulmate at ease? She muses as she watches to two. They’ve eaten together before, she decides when they pass stuff back and forth without having to ask and seeming to know what the other prefers.

“Thanks Aunt May,” Peter tells her between bites of cheese mashed potatoes, “I love your cooking.”

“Poppycock,” she retorts with a playful smile, “You love certain things I cook, and the fact you don’t have to.” Catching Wade’s eye, she stage whispers, “Don’t let him near the stove without supervision, he could burn the house down.”

The mercenary snorts, patchy skin turning a pinkish color, as he just nods.

“I don’t know why you think that, it only happened once!” Her nephew exclaims in mock offense, ruining it when he chuckles.

“You know why, young man,” she replies as she stands up to get more tea for herself. Both boys are drinking the juice she set out. Boys, she internally snorts, maybe they are, for all she is pretty sure that Wde is somewhere in the middle between their ages. He looked younger earlier but now he looks like he might be late twenties to early thirties. Or is he actually young and the condition of his skin just makes him seem older? It doesn’t matter, they’re both going to  

Almost bashfully, Peter turns to Wade and tells him, “I was still trying to figure out how to control the stickiness and sort of got stuck to random stuff, which lead to me missing the timer going off, which lead to the food in the oven continuing to cook, which i didn’t notice cause I missed the time. Long story short, the fire department got a chuckle out of my accident and suggested I take Home Economics or not be allowed near the kitchen again.”

Snorting again, Wade sounds disbelieving as he asks, “Are you serious?”

“Very,” she replies after taking another sip of tea, “pull the oven out a bit and you can see the damage to the fire wall.”

Silence falls over the table as she watches the two eat, noticing the fact Peter keeps shifting more food towards Wade almost absently. It makes her curious if he realizes he’s doing that. She’s seen plenty of soulmates come through the hospital that instinctively perform little acts of care. Of course, she has seen soulmates hurt each other too, but that’s a different story. These two definitely need to discuss that little discovery because she knows Peter didn’t know prior to today, his shock was real.

Boys, she thinks as she watches them, horrid at communicating clearly, but this is something they will have to deal with on their own.

-oOo-

Wade’s POV

He’s nervous when they leave Peter’s bedroom. He doesn’t like to talk to people without his mask or costume on.

“Aunt May is a good person, she’s not going to notice,” Peter tells him as they walk down the stairs.

He just hums distractedly, looking around the house and trying not to focus on Peter.

>This is about to come crashing down on you,< White sneers, not helping his anxiety levels that spike as they hit the bottom step.

/Matching marks.\ Yellow states, as if he hadn’t noticed that spiderweb pattern covering the younger man’s shoulder when he was waking up the second time.

~I noticed,~ he’d snort but he is trying to act as normal as possible right now, not that he’s ever been actually normal.

/You should definitely talk to him about it, we need to know what his thoughts are, I’m curious and can’t just jump in his head.\ Yellow informs him almost excitedly.

What’s there to be excited about? He looks like last week’s mystery meat most of the time, there is no way he’s asking Peter’s thoughts on the topic. He’s just hoping that Peter doesn’t bring it up because he doesn’t know what to think. Thinking is not his strong suit.

>Think that again.< White agrees with him snidely.

~Fuck off,~ he retorts.

As the door to the dining and kitchen area, he freezes for a moment, trying to decide what to do.

>Run you piece of shit!< White screams at him.

/Walk in there and have dinner. We’re in healing mode, that requires food, there is free food.\ Yellow reasons and he is sure that Yellow would be glaring at White if possible.

~Fuck off.~ He repeats before giving a small shake of his head and trying to focus on something outside his mind. His eyes dart around the room, taking in the doors, the wall rack full of knives, all the little details that talk about the person who lives here, and all of the food.

/Food, glorious food,\ Yellow sings happily.

Slowly stepping in the dining room, he notices that Peter is standing beside the woman he is pretty sure is Aunt May, he wasn’t listening a moment ago, so he’s startled when the pixie does the introductions.

/Pixie? I’m not sure he qualifies, but that does go with he fact we are pretty sure he’s a twink if not jailbait.\ Yellow muses thoughtfully. /We should totally ask, after all, you’ve been praising his ass for years.\

>Jail. Bait.<

“Ma’am,” he greets her, trying for polite, not something he excels at, there is a reason he likes rough and tumble bars so much more than calm places.

“Nice to meet you Wade,” Aunt May tells him before ordering, “Now sit down and eat.”

That’s definitely the sort of order he can deal with. He’s actually a bit surprised by it. After all, he really should be putting her off her appetite, but he doesn’t seem  to be. Is she blind? Nope, he decides a moment later as he watches her eyes flicker between them.

Dinner goes smoother than he expects, his two constant companions make comments in the back of his mind, most of which he ignores. Through the entire thing Aunt May treats him no differently than she does Peter.

Peter.

He’s really not sure what’s going on with his baby boy right now. What the hell was he thinking bringing him here? This was probably the last place his pixie should have brought him. He’s so wrapped up in his thoughts about what’s going on, that he wouldn’t have noticed the fact Peter keeps subtle pushing food his way.

“Try talking,” Aunt May suggests as she gets up, “Peter, please clean up the dishes.” She’s gone a moment later, and the sound of the TV fills the air not long after.


	4. Cleaning Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Note:** a lot of this is stream of thought which is bouncy

Peter’s POV

His aunt is not a subtle woman sometimes, he thinks as he watches her leave and tries not to flinch when she turns the TV on. She used to do that with him and Uncle Ben too, go turn the TV on and let them have some ‘men time to talk’. 

Rising from his seat, he starts picking up the now empty dishes while thinking about what to say. He really doesn’t know right now. He’s still wrapping his mind around the fact that Wade is apparently his soulmate. Deadpool, the Merc with the Mouth, the most morally questionable almost good person he knows, is his soulmate. 

He’s always wondered who his soulmate was. Why his mark is a massive spiderweb on his shoulder, upper arm, chest and back? Was his soulmate someone who worked with arachnids? There was some amusement when he first became Spider-Man because what if he was the arachnid that they watched after? But it quickly faded because he wanted a partner like his Aunt May and Uncle Ben’s relationship had been. 

He had hoped that Mary Jane or Gwen would be his soulmate but no, they were each other’s soulmates. Now that was a bit unexpected because to his knowledge neither had shown interest in other ladies. He hasn’t actually talked to them much about their relationship. Particularly as Gwen’s currently in London, and MJ is off doing her thing while occasionally dating men. Though every time he’s run into her it’s been a different man, of course there are months between the run ins, so he definitely isn’t going to judge her on that because he doesn’t know what’s happening and besides he has no right to be judgy. 

Of course, he’s closer to Gwen than MJ after everything that happened with Harry. Gwen still emails him, and they occasionally Skype chat about what their current research is. She also sends him occasional ideas for things he can use to improve his suit or artificial web shooters. He returns the favor by coming up with gadgets and useful items that can be used to deal with the fact she’s unable to walk due to being paralyzed from the waist down. Which was sheer luck, because he had thought he killed her at first, so discovering she wasn’t dead had been like burst of relief he couldn’t even begin to explain.

The multiple enjoined spirals that blend the black, red, and blue have always made him curious. Spiderwebs are normally a single spiral but not in the mark on his skin. It’s made of four spirals, one central with all three colors that spirals outwards into the other three that are solid colored. The black spiral is on his upper arm and connects to the red spiral on his chest and blue spiral on his back. But it is one large spiderweb, not four separate ones, because they are all connected together to with a blending of the colors. 

He absently uses his own webs to turn the water on before he gets to the sink so it is nice and hot since it takes the water tank almost a full minute to actually start pushing the hot water through the system. At the sink he drops the stopper in the bottom before putting the dishes in there and turning to get more, just to be jolted out of his thoughts by Wade standing almost directly behind him with what’s left of the dishes. 

Right. Wade. The reason his aunt left them alone. Because she thinks they need to talk. He’s just not sure how to talk about this topic. They’ve discussed soulmarks in the past and Wade always seemed to not want a soulmate. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles as he takes the dishes. 

So they’re soulmates. Soul. Mates. He, Peter Parker, Spider-Man, has a soulmate. That is expected. Normal. But. _But_. His soulmate is Wade Wilson. Deadpool. The Merc with the Mouth. How did that happen? How is it possible?

He really needs to think about this. But he doesn’t want Wade to leave with the topic not dealt with because he knows his friend’s self confidence and worth are not that good. He’s noticed that plenty of times in the past. Particularly since he makes similar self-deprecating remarks often enough to get them. From other people.

He’s startled from his thoughts a second time when Wade joins him by taking the time to dry the dishes as he washes them. 

“Thanks,” he repeats.

They’re nearly done with the dinner dishes when Wade suddenly starts talking, almost babbling, but mumbled and it’s a sure fire thing that if he didn’t have better than average senses, he probably wouldn’t have heard it. “It’s okay baby boy, you don’t have to say anything, I’m not soulmate material.”

“Not true,” he disagrees without thinking it through. 

Both of them are startled by that declaration according to the look Wade gives him when their eyes meet a moment later.

“I’m thinking, but not that it’s a bad idea, just a shocking one, and it sort of explains so much. I mean even when we disagree on shit we still end up working together and trying to make sure the other doesn’t get hurt any more than necessary. Even when not patrolling we spend time together just hanging out,” he babbles, “besides, we’re both supers, mutants, mutate, whatever word you wanna use, it makes better sense than either of us being paired up with someone who isn’t and wouldn’t be able to handle living with that sort of thing.”

He’s not mentioning that both ladies he dated, the ones who ended up being each other’s soulmates, were fairly normal and they both knew that he isn’t. Plus if he remembers right Wade has at least one failed non-soulmate marriage too. Though it’s rarely talked about so he could be wrong. 

Right now he is trying not to lose focus, because he is still distracted by the thoughts racing through his brain. 

Wade nods, eyes widening for a moment before he nods again.

Sometimes he really wishes he could hear what the voices are saying to his friend, but considering some of what has been mentioned to him in the past, it’s probably good that he can’t. They’d argue all the time pretty much. 

They already sort of date, he thinks, startling himself into snickering which has Wade giving him narrow eyed looks. 

“I just realized we already sort of act like we’re dating. Dinner on roof tops, beat the shit out of annoying people together, argue about difference of opinion, back to dinner together.” He explains quickly.

This time it’s Wade that starts laughing, shaking his bald head as he does so. “So, wanna get dinner sometime baby boy?” 

“Sure,” he agrees with a wide smile, “I’d like that.”

They fall silent again, and his mind goes back to the current circle it is doing regarding Wade being his soulmate. The fact Deadpool is his soulmate. It’s definitely a lot to take in. 

 


	5. Helpful Chat

Peter’s POV

A little bit later he notices the way Wade sways and suggests, “Why don’t you go lay down for a bit.”

For a moment the merc stares at him as if waiting for something before shaking his head and mumbling, “Yeah.”

He watches then listens as Wade retreats back upstairs to his room, his senses tuned to see if his window opens, there is a particular noise that makes, and he doesn’t hear it. Though he does hear his old bed creak.

“Did you figure everything out?” Aunt May asks as she comes in the room.

“No, yes, I don’t know.” He answers, rubbing a hand across his face tiredly. “I think we sort of agreed on a date.”

“That’s a good first step,” she remarks as she gets herself a glass of milk.

He just shrugs, not sure what to say. His mind is still whirling over the fact his soulmate is Deadpool and they have been close to dating for the last year even though neither of them ever called it that. They were just friends who happened to hang out occasionally, have dinner often, and beat the shit out of criminals regularly. All perfectly normal friend stuff. Right?

“I”m gonna Skype Gwen.” He announces, heading towards his room only to freeze because his laptop isn’t here, it’s in his apartment in the city proper but he doesn’t want to leave Wade here alone. “Can I use the computer?”

“Go ahead,” his aunt replies, sounding almost amused.

So he changes directions, heading towards the living room and the small computer instead.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he sends a quick  text message off first. -Do you have some time to chat?-

-Yes, skype me when you are ready.- she replies less than a minute later.

He sighs in relief, starting up the tower computer and waiting for it load. Once it is on, he logs into Skype, relieved he encouraged his aunt to install it for the days the weather is nasty and they want to visit.

 _“You look like shit Peter,”_ his friend states as soon as the connection is made.

He rolls his eyes and smiles wanly at her. “Hi to you too Gwen.”

 _“It’s not my fault you look like the time Dr. Conners decided to slam you into various things because he could.”_ She retorts with a concerned expression. _“What’s wrong?”_

-I found my soulmate- he answers, using the messaging feature as he hears Wade shifting about.

 _“I’m not sure if I should say about time or oh fuck.”_ Gwen remarks.

He holds a finger up to his lips for a moment, waiting to hear Wade settle back into the bed. This will have to be a quick conversation.

“I’m going to get cleaned up and read in bed for a bit Peter,” his aunt says as she stops beside him, “Hello Gwen dear, how are you?”

 _“I’m good Aunt May, how have you been?”_ his long time friend asks politely.

“The same as always dear, though Peter here gave me a bit of a start earlier, goodnight Gwen,” Aunt May states, giving a small wave.

 _“Goodnight Aunt May,”_ Gwen replies warmly, _“So, Peter, what’s the issue?”_

He sighs, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, he answers, “It’s both.”

 _“Explain.”_ his longtime friend demands imperiously.

“Deadpool is my soulmate,” he tells her, keeping his voice down even though he knows that Wade doesn’t have the same sort of hearing as he does.

 _“Deadpool, the almost insane mercenary mutant who doesn’t die, is your soulmate?”_ she asks after a long pause.

“Yes.” He agrees, nodding, “See why it’s both?”

 _“Actually,”_ she snickers, _“That might be best.”_ Her voice suddenly gets a lot more serious, _“You have minor abandonment issues, he can’t die, it’s win-win. Then there’s the fact he has a massive healing factor if I remember our previous conversations correctly, so you’d never have to worry about broken bones screwing his life up.”_

“Low blow Gwen, low, low blow.” He snaps, skin heating up in embarrassment. He still feels horrible about the fact it’s his fault her back is broken.

 _“Stop brooding. I will take a broken back and inability to walk over being dead every time.”_ She informs him, the exact same thing she has told him several times in past.

He laughs dryly, shaking his head as he tries to stop laughing. This definitely isn’t a laughing matter.

 _“Seriously though,”_ she continues as if he hadn’t interrupted her with an inappropriate laugh. _“Perfect match. You’re both on the ‘superhuman’ category, both stubborn, both hard to kill, both mostly help people. He can deal well with those situations you get stalled on, the ones that require the extreme violence ”_

“Gwen!” he exclaims, eyes going wide.

 _“Peter, I love you dearly, you’re my bestfriend, but sometimes your inability to kill is not a good thing.”_ She declares firmly, _“So have you two talked about it yet?”_

He shakes his head, “Not really. He started thinking earlier that I would just say no on principle so I tried to put a stop to that sort of thing, I mean we’re friends, that’s better than complete strangers right?”

 _“Boys.”_ She groans, rolling her eyes. _“I swear if security wasn’t such a pain in the ass for planes I’d come back just to bash your heads together and see if that helps any.”_

Again he laughs, this time actually amused because it is definitely something Gwen would do.

“You remember I can stick to ceilings?” He queries, tipping his head to the side.

Smirking, she retorts, _“I have a long distance taser and know how to use it.”_

“Thanks,” he tells her with a snort. His attention is drawn away as he hears Wade moving around his room again. “Gotta go.”

 _“Later Peter, skype me later with how things go.”_ Gwen requests before the connection is ended.

Stretching, he heads up to his room to check on his friend and soulmate. Soulmate. Maybe that’s not actually something to be concerned about. Gwen is definitely right that he doesn’t have to worry about injuries or death with Wade.  She’s right, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, just something they will have to feel out carefully. Mostly because both of them suck at clear communications and have several moral differences to cover. 


	6. Friendship

Wade’s POV

He tries to lay down for a bit on the bed, but he finds it so hard to relax into the bedding. It’s almost too soft. When was the last time he slept somewhere so clean and comfortable? His skin feels like it is pulled very tight over bones and muscles, almost like an itch he knows he can’t scratch from past experience.

>Search the room.< White suggests gleefully.

/That is not a good idea. We should not be searching the room.\ Yellow contradicts a moment later.

“Why not?” he mutters as he glances about the room as he sits up and stretches.

/This is your baby boy, it’s not a good idea to go looking through things.\ Yellow answers and he is sure the voice is bobbing its head as if to emphasize the point.

Sliding to his feet, he just stands there and looks around. He’ll only snoop through things he can see without having to pick something up or go into one of the drawers or even the closet. That way both the voices are satisfied.

White just about snorts.

/It’s an improvement, hush up you, improvements are good.\ Yellow chastises, but he’s pretty sure it’s for White rather than him.

He never would have pegged Spidey as a geek or nerd, but considering the photo equipment and the other little signs of making things like the rather nice toolkit he looks through, Spidey definitely is one.

/I’d sigh about you going through the toolkit if I thought it would do any good.\ Yellow  comments exasperatedly.

~It was sitting on the top of the dresser and partly open already~ he protests, to him that was out in the open, he didn’t have to open a box or go in a drawer.

When his world starts spinning, he stumbles back to the bed, almost crashing into it. A moment later he finds his eyes feel so heavy he can’t keep them open. Despite the fact he feels out of place and the bed is still softer than he is used to, he passes out, his world fading it black.

-oOo-

Gwen’s POV

She tries not to laugh as the skype call ends because Peter’s rather adorable. Leave it to her best friend to have Deadpool as a soulmate. That explains so much about the color pattern on the spiderweb and the fact it’s made up of different parts when they have previously discussed the fact that Deadpool seems to have more than one personality inside his head.  

She should probably call and talk with MJ seeing how she just got done talking with Peter, but she’s not planning to. Yes they’re soulmates, but MJ doesn’t know how to deal with her being in a wheelchair, and the fact she prefers London to New York, particularly now well, they don’t talk often.

Closing her eyes, she moves around a bit, grumbling under her breath about the fact she sometimes gets pins and needles sensations in her lower back and rump. It’s rare and it’s not a sign of healing, just that not all the nerves are disconnected.

Once the feeling has passed, she heads to the kitchen in order to get herself something to drink.

Maybe she should consider a trip to New York just because she knows Peter, he can be a complete idiot when left to his own devices sometimes despite the fact he’s actually a genius. Besides, she’s wanted to meet Deadpool in the past because the way her friend could sometimes babble on the topic. Of course it’s not surprising that Deadpool is actually Spider-Man’s soulmate.

-What’s his first name?- she texts Peter, knowing he’s probably not in bed or in one of his spider hammocks.

-Wade, why?- he responds a moment later.

-Well, he’s your soulmate, I’m sure I will meet him eventually and I am not calling your probable boyfriend Deadpool- she answers before shoving her phone back in her pocket.

Laughing, she tips her head back and smiles at the pictures scattered across her ceiling. Peter had visited her last summer to deliver some of his projects, many of which were very handy for her to make things easier on her. Then he had decorated her ceiling with various scenes and shots of her favorite sort of views over the years, plus a lot of other random pictures he thought she might enjoy.

-oOo-

Peter’s POV

He snickers as he heads upstairs, shaking his head because that is so very much like his best friend. He’s sure he’s mentioned Wade’s name before, but maybe not or maybe only fleetingly without actually making sure the connection between Deadpool and Wade was made. Not that it matter’s Gwen won’t forget it now.

When he reaches his room, he finds Wade half on the bed, and half off. Posture makes him think that the older man had just collapsed on the bed or passed out while going to sit back down.

Carefully, he moves Wade the rest of the way onto the bed before walking over to his window and looking out. He’s always preferred the night time to the day time, even before being bitten by the spider and having his own mutation come online. He thought long and hard about whether he was a mutant or mutate, and went with mutant because he had to have the inclination to begin with. Besides, he tested his blood during that short period he was working at Oscorp with Dr. Conners after some research, and he carried the gene, which he might have done a bit of hacking to discover. So the chance were high he’d have some sort of gift even if not the exact one he ended up with. Sometimes he wonders if he has an empathy gift since he’s good at reading emotions, and since his aunt has one, and whether he is both a mutant and a mutate.

He shakes his head, pushing away that train of thought for the moment. He’d be better suited to thinking about what he is going to do in this situation. Absently he starts making himself a hammock web to nap in, considering what to do about his situation with Wade. At this point, maybe the best thing would be to just be friends as Wade and Peter rather than try pushing for more. They can figure everything else out as they go along. 


	7. Early Morning

Wade’s POV

/Is he sleeping in a spiderweb hammock?\ is the first thing Yellow comments as he sits up before he even has a chance to process what’s going on around him besides peace and relatively quiet.

>The spider is rather spidery.< White remarks a moment later, almost impressed.

~It’s too early for you two.~ he thinks as he takes in the sight of Peter in a spiderweb hammock in the corner of the bedroom by the window.

Welp, he’s not leaving through the window then. Does he want to actually leave? Yes, best to leave before Spidey has a chance to wake up and tell him to go away. He likes their friendship. Values it even. It’s the longest friendship he has had besides Blind Al and Weasel. Although, he’s never been sure if Weasel is his friend because they are friends or because he’s good for business.

>Back on point, leaving before Spidey wakes up.< White snaps at him angrily.

Silently sliding to his feet, he glances over to make sure he hadn’t woke Peter up before carefully crossing to the door, opening it just enough to slide through it. He glances around once he is in the hall to make sure he hasn’t disturbed anyone and it appears no one is coming to stop him.

Just as quietly, he makes his way down stairs, skipping over the creaking steps to avoid making noise. He’s just about to the bottom when Aunt May appears in front of him at the base of the steps looking up at him speculatively.

“Since you’re trying to sneak out, you’re definitely awake enough to help with breakfast,” she informs him.

He blinks at her for a moment as he processes that statement.

/How’d she know we were sneaking out? I didn’t think you made any noise.\ Yellow asks in shock.

>Does she have spidey senses too?< White almost demands in awe.

Almost meekly he follows the older woman to the kitchen.

“What’s bothering you Wade?” she asks as she gets eggs out of the fridge before muttering, “Going to need more eggs.”

“Nothings bothering me,” he answers immediately, “I’m right as rain.”

She makes a disbelieving noise as she sets stuff on the counter. “Can you please grab the bowls out of the top cupboard by the fridge?”

He just stares at her before deciding she must be like Blind Al and just be past the age where she cares. Shaking his head, he shifts closer to the counter, easily reach up to open and grab the first set of bowls he spots.

“Step stool.” She states when he turns towards her with them. “I get that question from Peter every time I make him grab the bowls.”

He starts laughing because he wasn’t actually going to ask but Yellow was curious on the matter. He just figured she had a system for when there wasn’t someone taller around. Again, comparing her to Blind Al who doesn’t let being blind stop her from getting things done.

“Wasn’t gonna ask,” he mumbles, handing them over.

“So why are you feeling like a thunderstorm destroyed your favorite bomb?” she asks as she takes them and sets them on the counter.

He blinks at her, feeling a bit lost. Does Spidey get his ability to hit the issue on the head from her?

>She’s a perceptive old bat.< White declares, and he is sure if his voice in the back of his mind had eyes they’d be staring.

“Nice metaphor.” He replies.

“Mmmhmmm, that’s not an answer,” she hums. “Here, beat some eggs.”

He accepts the bowl and sets to beating the eggs. Almost glaring at the bowl as he does so. He was trying to escape unnoticed and yet here he is in the middle of the kitchen helping Peter’s aunt beat some eggs. She has a perfectly good blender on the counter, why doesn’t she use it?

“You can dice those up when you’re done with the eggs,” she tells him, motioning to a cutting board full of veggies. Apparently omelets are on the menu.

“You’re not going to drop it are you?” he asks as he sets the bowl on the counter a moment later.

“No,” she answers, seriously turning to look him square in the face, “I think too many people let you slip slide away with answers on questions regarding your mental and emotional health, or they just don’t bother asking. Someone needs to, and I love my nephew, but sometimes he’s about as useful as a bag of rocks when it comes to dealing with emotions as he tends to slip slide around most people’s questions.”

He accidentally cuts off a finger because he wasn’t paying attention and doesn’t actually notice until she looks pointedly at his hand, a concerned frown curving her lips and brow drawn together tightly.

“Put the knife down,” she comments almost gently.

“It’s nothing, it’ll grow back in a minute, actually,” he sets the knife down and shoves the finger back in place, giving it a moment to heal, though it seems a bit slower than normal. “See there.” Carefully picking up the cutting board he moves over to the sink and rinses everything off because he knows not everyone doesn’t care what’s in their food. He’s got a feeling she’s not a fan of blood.

“Do that often?” she queries, still not going back to what she had been doing before.

“Not really,” he replies, deciding not to mention he’s far more likely to kill himself, not that it ever lasts.

>One of these glorious days it will!< White crows sarcastically.

/Some reason I don’t think Peter or Aunt May would like to hear that.\ Yellow states worriedly.

~Shut up,~ he tells them.

Once he’s rinsed them off several times, mostly because he can’t always see colors as well as he’d like, he goes back to chopping them up into fine little pieces.

“Peter has two good friends nowadays,” Aunt May remarks conversationally.

He just nods, not saying anything.

“You and Gwen, and Gwen lives in London. So if you think that he’s going to tell you to go away, you’ll be wrong,” she continues as pours the egg on the skillet to start cooking.

He stops, glancing over at her to see if this is just some cruel joke, only to find her still cooking, expression serious.

“Rather than worry about him saying no and telling you to go away, not that I think you’d listen, you two are both stubborn if even one tenth of what I have seen on TV and in the news is even close to correct.” She pauses, as if trying to find where she was. “Why don’t you try being friends, and worry about everything else later? After all, there are a lot of different types of soulmate bonds, whether people like to acknowledge that or not.”

“Oh,” he mutters.

>Oh? OH? That’s all you have to say? Seriously? How stupid are you?< White exclaims angrily.

/Ignore that idiot. Oh’s a perfectly good response with that much information being dropped at once!\ Yellow urges him.

“You about done with the veggies?” she asks, turning to look at him warmly.

/Now that’s not a common thing to see.\ Yellow hums in shock, /How many people act like we’re perfectly normal?\

>No sane ones.< White answers before he has a chance.

~Fuck off White.~ He snaps, not answering the question.

“Huh, oh, yeah,” he answers her, setting the knife down. He’s pretty sure minced is the only descriptive word for what he did to the veggies.

“Perfect,” she declares taking them and splitting it carefully between two of the three egg piles before pausing to glance over at him and ask, “You’re not allergic to any of this are you?”

He starts laughing and has a hard time stopping because he’s never been allergic to any foods, and with his healing factor even if he was it wouldn’t do anything to him.

“No,” he gasps out between bouts of laughter, “I’m not.”

She pours the veggies in, then asks, “Ham, pepperoni, sausage, chicken, or bacon? Or all of the above?”

“All of the above,” he answers as he finally stops laughing.

“You look like you’re feeling better now.” she remarks as she dumps a bunch of lunch meat and pizza meat into a bowl and sets to mixing them together. “Cheese?”

“Hell yes,” he pauses as he realizes what he said, “errr,” swallows because she seems like a lady and it’s not polite to cuss at ladies, “yes please.”

“Go ahead and sit down,” she suggests, “Peter will stumble down here about the time that I get done.”

Almost hesitantly he does so, but he is ready to jump up at a moments notice if be.

After several minutes of silence while she is cooking but his mind is running circles around the fact he seems to be Peter’s only friend in the city and that just seems wrong somehow. He blurts out, “Are you sure?”

“About Peter and you? Of course,” she answers sincerely. “We raised him, and while he had a bit of a rough time when he was fifteen, he’s cleaned up a lot since then.” She flips the omelette. “Of course had he trusted me enough to discuss the rough time, maybe it wouldn’t have been as rough, but,” she shrugs, “somethings can only be learned by doing.”

He nods in agreement, there definitely are some things that can only be learned by doing them.

Silence falls again between them as she finishes up.

>She might be a scary old woman,< White comments thoughtfully. >Does she read minds?<

/Mind reading doesn’t work on us,\ Yellow retorts, /remember?\

>Right. I forgot. You try being a ride along voice in the back of his head and see if you don’t forget things!< White sasses back angrily, going quiet in that way that makes him hope that this time it will stay permanent. Not that it ever does.

Sure enough, as soon as she flips the omelettes onto the plates before she’s even had a chance to say anything, the door to Peter’s room creaks open and Spidey comes stumbling down the stairs, hitting every single one that makes noise on his way.

“I smell a meat lovers veggie omelette,” the twink announces as he just about throws himself into a chair. “Morning Aunt May, Wade.”

“Good morning Peter get the orange juice and cups, then you can sit down,” she informs Spidey as she picks up one of the plates.

“Okay,” Peter agrees, standing back up and moving around the kitchen confidently.

A moment later Spidey is putting the drinks on the table before settling back into his seat.

Breakfast goes smoother than he expects. It’s familiar and comforting and makes want what he is sure is impossible. Still, it’s nice. Far nicer than he can remember a meal with other people being in the last several years. Except maybe when he eats with Weasel and Blind Al. Do they count as people?

>Probably idiot.< White snaps at him.

/Shush you idiot, it’s a logical question considering who asked it, and yes they count.\ Yellow retorts.

Shaking his head, he ignores them and just enjoys the time spent with the pair. 


	8. After Breakfast

Peter’s POV

When they get done eating and cleaning up, he comments, “I have to work in a few hours so I’m going to need to get going Aunt May.”

Standing up, his aunt opens her arms for a hug, the same way that she has so many times before. “Behave yourself. Bring eggs the next time you come by, preferably without the fight with a lizard first.”

He bursts out laughing, wondering how long she has wanted to use that one. Wade gives him a confused and curious glance, so he explains, “For a while there, every time I was supposed to bring home eggs, I would get distracted by Doctor Conners, known in the news as the Lizard.”

Wade nods, lips twitching upwards in the hints of a smirk only for it to fade away a moment later.

“I should be going too.” The scarred man remarks softly, rising from where he is seated currently.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t leave for work for a few more hours yet,” Aunt May tells the merc with a small smile.

“No, no, I um, I gotta go.” Wade protests, bolting towards the door faster than expected.

He considers stopping his soulmate with a web but decides that wouldn’t be a good idea and instead just calls out, “Talk to you later! I hope you have a good day.”

He hears the way Wade pauses for just a moment before continuing on his way.

“That was the right choice, Peter.” His aunt states as she looks around the room for a moment as if thinking about what to do next.

He gives her a quick hug, “Talk to you later Aunt May, thanks for dinner and breakfast!”

He’s not going to comment on whether it was the right thing or not. He’s feeling rather mixed about it right now. On one hand he really wants to have a talk with Wade about what’s between them. On the other hand he doesn’t want to screw with the status quo between them. It took several years to get to the point they are at where they don’t fight with each other in earnest since he didn’t originally trust Deadpool.

Heading upstairs, he get’s his old backpack out, thankful he kept it, and puts Deadpool’s stuff in it to take to his place. He’ll give them back to Wade the next time they talk, even if he’s not a fan of weapons. Too bad the swords won’t fit, he thinks as he eyes them. He’ll wrap them in a towel, spiderweb it shut on the inside flap so it can’t be seen, and then tuck it on the back rest so they are between him and the backpack.

Once he has everything cleaned up, he takes off with a quick, bye to his aunt.

Apparently he will need to get out his extra suit since the one he was wearing last night got messed up, but that’s not a really big deal either. It needs washed, and he’s gotten a lot better about washing his suits than he used to be. He’s sure his aunt is now going to tease him about that since his secret is in the open between them.

He considers webbing home, but decides to go the more pedestrian route, because that seems like a better idea since he isn’t in his suit and prefers not to advertise who he is.

Today he is working at the tower, on his internship, and he really doesn’t feel like sharing with the Avengers just yet that he’s Spider-Man. How he’s managed to avoid it for the last five years, he’s not sure. He’s got an idea it’s due to the fact their lines of work don’t really overlap. Except of course they do, just not the way anyone realizes. He helped with those aliens last year by webbing the shit out of them and getting people out of the attack radius. But he was using his natural webbing and not the special webbing because it breaks apart faster. That and he wasn’t in costume at the time of the attack. 

He probably should tell them one of these days, if only for politeness reasons.

It seems to take longer than normal for him to get back to his apartment. Once there he rushes through getting everything put away, getting a load in the washer, a shower and changed before he’s on his way back out to head to the tower.

One thing he needs to consider is how his relationship with the Avengers will be affected if he becomes far closer with Deadpool. They already think he’s insane for the fact he doesn’t mind working with Deadpool as it is.

No. He just about snarls, they’ll not dictate his relationship with his soulmate. If any of them actually try to, they’ll find themselves having a bad day. Tony Stark isn’t the only computer genius. The AI might be tricky to get around, but that definitely wouldn’t stop him. Actually, it might be a fun challenge.

He shakes his head, drawing himself out of that train of thought. That’s not helpful to think about right now. First he actually needs to see where his relationship with Wade goes. Of course, he can still plot out the various possibilities. Just not when on his way to work.

Work first, thinking through what he wants and how to approach Wade second. Particularly as he needs to remember to think of Wade’s feeling in the mix. It’s quite possible his soulmate isn’t going to want him. Only, he frowns, pausing in the middle of the sidewalk as flashes of the conversation he woke up hearing crosses his mind. Wade’s sure he’ll be the one to say go away.

Shaking his head again, he shoves those thoughts away and heads in the building. Focus Peter, he orders himself, focus. 


	9. Unplanned Date

Peter’s POV

It’s late when he get’s done with his shift at the tower working in the lab entering data. If he was still on good terms with Harry he’d probably work at Oscorp in a research position, but they had a bit of a falling out when Harry realized that he was Spider-Man before going insane and ending up in the asylum because of it.Shaking his head, he leaves the building, waving a happy farewell to the secretaries as he does so.

He could probably have a better position in the tower if he wanted to reveal exactly how intelligent he is but he prefers not to. At least right now. Back to the not wanting to show off, besides, his real love is photography for all he enjoys science as well. Mostly he went with the paid internship to be able to afford living since the Bugle definitely isn’t that good at paying up.    

He’s about halfway home when the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, not in the danger way that lets him know there is a threat but like someone is watching him. There is a flash of movement in the corner of his vision. A moment later, Wade is bounding over to him, stopping just a few feet in front of him almost as if he went from confident to not in the small space.

He watches the way the taller man, now dressed in a heavy hoody with the hood up, jeans and sunglasses, shifts foot to foot as if building up the courage to say something. There is uncertainty in his posture, the curved in shoulders and inability to stay still.

“Hi Wade,” he greets his soulmate, yep that’s still a shock but not an unwelcome one, deciding to be the one to start the exchange. Maybe that will make the older man feel a bit more relaxed.

“Dinner?” his friend asks almost tentatively.

“Sure!” he hums in agreement, easily closing the space between them and grinning at his soulmate.

That seems to startle Wade who stares at him, or at the air, hard to tell with the sunglasses. A moment later, the taller man shakes his head and grins back, almost manically. “I know an awesome Mexican place.”

“Lead the way,” he suggests, considering bumping their shoulders together but deciding against it because he can already feel how uncomfortable Wade is without his suit. He doesn’t want his friend to be any more uncomfortable than he has to be, anything he can do to lessen it is

-oOo-

Wade’s POV

He spent the first few hours after he left Miss May’s, Aunt May’s, he’s not sure what to call her, home holed up in his shitty apartment surrounded by the disaster that is his life and wondering what he should do plus where his equipment from yesterday went. A large portion of that time is spent arguing with White about whether he should ask Peter to dinner or not, and maybe about his stuff, but that’s only secondary. Yellow thinks he should without question, encourages it even.

The question then becomes where should they eat? Even though he’s a great cook, there is no way in hell he is inviting Spidey here. Actually, he might just move out, take his things with him and pay a hazmat team to clean it up so whoever has it next doesn’t have to live in such a disaster. He could go to Spidey’s place to cook, but last night and this morning they weren’t actually at Peter’s place.

Eventually he had made his mind up. He’d see if Peter wants to go to his favorite Mexican place in Hell’s Kitchen. He had debated between his one of his spare Deadpool suits or civilian clothes for a good thirty minutes. Eventually he decided to settle on civilian clothes, even if he’s not the biggest fan of them, because he wants to ask Peter, not Spider-Man to dinner. Once he’s changed into his own clothes, he heads towards Stark Tower since they’ve discussed the fact that Spidey is an intern there in the past, though he didn’t know which intern at that point.

He’s halfway to the tower when he stops in the middle of the street with a sudden realization. Spidey is Peter, so he is going to bet that Peter’s last name is Parker, which means Spidey gets paid to take his own pictures by the asses at that newspaper. He spends a good ten minutes laughing about that fact. It’s perfect. Definitely something he’d do.

/Dinner Wade, we’re going to ask Peter to dinner.\ Yellow reminds him, to get him moving again.

>Yes, go ask your twink of a soulmate to dinner.< White snaps at him.

Slowly, he stops laughing because that really is too amusing. ~I’m going, I’m going.~

He ends up circling around the building several times, watching as each wave of people leaves, but not seeing Peter. He’s almost ready to give up when he spots the spiked up brown hair and almost narrow shoulders coming out of one of the side doors. A moment later he’s of jogging over only to stop right when he hits line of sight because what if Peter didn’t want him to come anywhere near here? He could be fucking up before he even realized he was.

Spidey’s head tips slightly to the left as the slender man steps forward once almost absently, “Hi Wade.” There is something warm and affectionate in the younger man’s voice, almost as if he’s actually happy to see him. That can’t be right.

/Sure it can, it’s been years since Spider-Man has tried chasing us out of the city. Now we know why. Of course he’d be happy to see his soulmate. That’s you incase you forgot.\ Yellow reasons.

>He’s jumped off of too many buildings and has brain damage, a perfect match for you.< White declares.

“Dinner?” he asks, almost demands, by the way it bursts out without anything else. He probably should have said hi back first. That’s the polite thing to do. He’s pretty sure that’s the polite thing to do. Damn it, he should have worn his suit, he feels much more comfortable in his suit. But he didn’t want to ask as Deadpool. They have dinner as Deadpool and Spider-Man all the time.

Much to his surprise, Peter closes the distance between them so there is barely a foot between them, grinning and agreeing merrily, “Sure!”

He blinks, taking a long moment to process that.

/That was an energetic yes,\ Yellow advices when he doesn’t immediately do something.

>Dinner time dumb fuck, suggest that Mexican place you were thinking about earlier.< White orders him. >Too bad we can’t just talk directly to the twink, it’d be so much easier.<

/Ignore him, voices aren’t supposed to talk to real people, technically we shouldn’t even be here, some would say it’s not quite healthy, but they’d be wrong. At least about me, I can’t say anything about the asshole who shares our head.\ Yellow retorts, most of it chiding towards White.

~Shut up. I need to think.~ He snaps at both of them because they are distracting.

/You’ve got this, I’m just moral support.\ Yellow encourages and he’s sure that Yellow would be smiling if possible. /Just pretend you’re in the suit if it will make it easier. We’re good at pretend after all.\

Grinning, because that is an excellent idea. He’s always much more comfortable in the suit, less stares, amazingly enough. “I know an awesome Mexican place.”

“Lead the way,” Peter replies, still grinning at him.

He nods, considering scooting closer but deciding against it because for all he likes to push his rather vast limits, he doesn’t want to ruin this before it’s actually something to ruin.

Instead they walk together, close but not quite touching, he’s sort of startled that Spidey’s hand is so close to his, it wouldn’t take much at all to close the distance between them and hold hands. It’s been years since he held hands with anyone.

They make their way through the city on foot, which he wonders if that was the wrong choice because it gives Peter time to change his mind, but the younger man never does. Instead the younger man decides to ask him about the menu and what sort of things would he suggest off of it. Of course there are so many good things, he’s not sure which one to mention, so he mentions them all.  


Snickering, his friend, they are friends right? He wonders briefly, remarks, “It’s a good thing I only eat a lot when healing cause that all sounds good.”

/Yes, you’re friends. He’s the only one not in your head beside Blind Al. I haven’t decided if the Weasel is a friend or just an associate who really likes your money.\ Yellow answers that stray thought a moment later.

>That is definitely a debatable question.< White agrees, then surprisingly clarifies, >About Weasel that is.<

They end up debating the differences between a full taco and a burrito. He almost thinks that Peter’s doing that just to distract him, but that doesn’t make any sense, so that’s probably not right. The trip ends up going faster than expected and he doesn’t actually notice the people as much as he thought he would.

When they get there, Peter almost beams as he declares, “I love this place.”

“Oh,” he almost feels put out because he was hoping it’d be somewhere new, before the realization that it can be a good thing strikes. “That’s great then, you already know what you like.”

Spidey nods, “Yep, I just don’t eat here a lot cause it goes too fast and I don’t have a lot of money normally.” It’s said rather matter of fact and not as a request for money. Most people would be asking for money or something.

“Petey!” Fatima exclaims when they slip in the door, “Go sit in the staff table, I’ll be right over with the menus.”

He just arches an eyebrow at the younger man.

“We had English together a couple of years ago, I tutored her, she fed me, it was win win.” Peter explains, hand coming up to nervously rub at his neck as they slip through the crowd towards the back.

“Is that why you’re so skinny, you never eat enough?” He asks curiously. If so that needs to be fixed.

“Not any more, my internship is better paying, so I actually have money for food, I just burn most of it off at night with my acrobatics.” Spidey answers with a playful smile, sliding into the booth.

He takes the other side, realizing that Spidey put himself back to the room, giving him the ability to see everything.

“Doesn't it bother you having your back to the room?” he asks worriedly.

“Nah, my senses work really well for warning me of danger,” Peter answers with an easy smile and small shake of his head. “There are very few situations it doesn’t warn me.”

“Oh,” he mumbles, he hadn’t thought of it like that.

>Does his senses warn him about us?< White asks, tone implying hurt if so.

/If he has any self preservation instincts it does, of course he has us for a soulmate so maybe not.\ Yellow offers thoughtfully.

“So Peeety, date? You need to be on a date, you never date.” Fatima queries as she somes sliding up to the booth.

Spidey tips his head sideways, lips quirking in something between a smirk and a smile. “I’ve had two dates since I met you thanks.”

“Yes, both with the blonde lady who migrated to London back what, two or three years ago.” She replies with a sharp nod, “That’s not dating: so date, possible date, really awkward why do you have to ask I have a clue sort of date?”

He burst out laughing because he can’t ever remember seeing this side of the young Mexican-Iranian woman before.

She blinks, blushing as she comments, “Sorry, probably weird.” A moment later she shakes it off, “So do you need menus or know what you want?”

“Something with beef that’s not a taco,” Peter answers, “and lemonade.”

“So the random pick something and bring it to you? Gotcha!” Fatima grins, writing something down before looking at him, “And yourself sir?”

Glancing at his soulmate, he comments, “I don’t get sir’ed often.”

“I imagine not.” Peter agrees with a small nod.

“Wrong pronoun title?” she asks almost instantly.

Again he starts laughing, because that’s a first for him, but it’s probably a welcome change for those who are misgendered either accidently or on purpose. “No. I just don’t get called sir.”

Her eyes narrow for a moment, before she practically grins at him, “I know you, you get the huge, almost everything on the menu order on Thursdays. Though I don’t think we’ve met like this, I’m Fatima.”

She doesn’t offer her hand, but that’s not unusual. It goes with the fact most ladies from her culture don’t touch unrelated men, and is perfectly polite. He’ll fight anyone who says otherwise.

It takes him a moment to swallow before nodding in agreement, reminding himself to act like he has his suit on. “I’m Wade.”

“Nice to meet you!” she happily exclaims, then grins playfully as she glances between them. “Petey, your dates the only person I know who eats as much as you sometimes.”

Peter’s ears turn an interesting shade of pink. “I know that,” he replies, “We’ve had eating contests on a couple of occasions, though life seems to interrupt them fairly often.”

“That’s true, pretty sure we’re tied right now,” he agrees happily. So Peter likes spending time with him.

>Notice he still hasn’t said whether this is a date or not.< White points out cynically.

/Shush you, Spidey has manners, it could be he would rather ask us first before confirming with this woman.\  Yellow retorts.

~I noticed and I hope~ he replies to both of them.

“So would you like your regular or something else?” Fatima queries, not seeming to be bothered by the scarring the way a lot of people are. Of course she’s seen part of his face once before so maybe that’s why.

“The regular,” he answers without having to think about.

“Got it, be back shortly with drinks!” she tells them before spinning off and heading towards the back.

“So, I wasn’t dodging the question because I am ashamed, I just,” there is a pause for a moment and he gets the impression that this isn’t ground Peter’s familiar with. It’s not ground he’s all that familiar with lately either, so he get’s it. “I just rather ask what you would prefer for public and or openness about this? I’m good with answering with a yes, because we sort of agreed on a date yesterday or this morning, it’s sort of blurred together, anyways, but umm, we never got much further than that.”

>He’s over thinking things? But wants to admit to dating your ugly ass?< White is as confused as he is about that sort of answer.

/That’s a good sign,\ Yellow declares happily, or as happily as Yellow ever gets despite the bright name.

Twice he opens his mouth to say he was good with yes, instead what comes out on the third try, “I didn’t think you’d want to.”

That seems to confuse Peter whose eyes narrow and brow furrows. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He’s saved from answering that by Fatima bringing their drinks over and the appetizers he always orders first.

“Here you are,” she announce, “Food will be out in a bit.”

She’s gone before either of them have a chance to say anything, going to answer a guy who keeps waving wildly at the other waitress and looks like he’s getting pissed.

“I,” he begins, grabbing his drink and downing probably half off it in one shot as he tries to give himself time to come up with something that doesn’t sound pathic.

>He seems to like you, might as well just go with pathic.< White sneers.

/Being honest isn’t pathic,\ Yellow remarks, >Stop being an ass asshole.< He knows the second part is directed at White.

Suddenly Spidey’s eyes go wide and the young man murmurs, “I think I got it. You didn’t think I’d want to say yes because you still doubt whether I’d want to see what happens or not.”

/That was surprisingly eloquent but what you were thinking, mostly,\ Yellow hums approvingly.

>Does he have his own set of voices?< White asks curious, the sneering tone dropped for the time being. Unexpectedly, White seems to _like_ Spidey even though White doesn’t like much of anyone unless they are in pieces. Quite literally.

“Yeah,” he agrees, mumbling because that’s embarrassing, he shouldn’t be so whatever he’s currently being. There’s no reason for it. He doesn’t think there is reason for it. Except the fact he looks like chewed up hamburger

“I do the same thing, so I recognized the precursor to it.” Peter’s voice is soft, gentle even, understanding.

He nods.

The two of them are quiet as they wait for their meals.  

He spends that time thinking about that statement. Why would Spidey have confidence issues? It doesn’t make sense. Yeah, the younger man is on the slight side in a society where people with muscle are seen as better, so maybe that adds to it? Plus Peter’s a geek, that probably doesn’t help any. Oh. Well. Maybe they aren’t as mismatched as he thinks.

>I’d keep him, he’s twink material and he could be yours as you are soulmates.< White suggests helpfully.

When Fatima comes back it is with one of the kitchen assistants carrying a second try because he always eats a lot of food. Spidey just smiles as the foods laid out.

“Refills on the drinks?” she asks once it’s all on the table.

“Please and thanks,” Petey replies with a quick nod.

He just nods, shifting the cup to the edge of the table, he really is uncomfortable with how the second person keeps glance at him with barely disguised disgust.

“Be right back,” she announces before shooing the kitchen assistant away and actually scolding them about being rude. That’s not the normal reaction folks have.

“Thank you,” Peter states softly, almost hard to hear over the noise of all the people.

/I think he’s thanking you for taking a chance rather than dinner.\ Yellow remarks when he finds himself trying to figure out a proper response.

>Scrawny is probably thanking you for the food,< White contradicts a moment later. >Or maybe not as he likes us.<

/Peter likes him, not us, chances are he doesn’t realize we’re here.\ Yellow argues firmly.

~You know I have mentioned you two to Spidey, not that Spidey ever seemed bothered by it.~ He replies to them, still working no figuring out how to respond to Peter.

>Evidence he has his own voices.< White declares with what would be a nod if White had a body.

“Here’s the refills, flag me if you need anything,” Fatima tells them when she gets back, setting the drinks down for them.

“Thanks,” Peter replies, his expression turning almost mischievous, “Yes.”

“Yes?” she repeats before it seems to dawn on her what that yes is, “Good!”

A moment later she’s whirling away, managing to carefully dislodge the hand of a kid being carried by their mother that was grabbing for her hijab curiously.

“So, go for a walk afterwards?” Peter suggests, “I, uh, got your stuff in my backpack at the apartment in case you want it back.”

It takes a second for him to realize what Spidey is talking about but as soon as he does, he exclaims, “Sweet!”

That seems to break the ice, and it becomes no different than one of the times they’ve found roof tops to have dinner on. They joke and chat, and have fun, enjoying each others company. At least he’s pretty sure that Peter is enjoying it. By the time they’re done, the building is mostly empty. He pays before Spidey has a chance to offer, leaving a rather large tip, the same way he always does because he knows he makes a bit of a mess. Besides Fatima is always polite to him, though this is the first time he has come in without his costume on.

They walk for a long while just chatting as they enjoy the night without being on the hunt or patrolling for issues. Eventually they make their way to an apartment building and take the elevator up to a top floor apartment. He pauses at the door, trying to decide whether he really should go in. Of course he does, because Peter invites him in, but he feels like it’s more than just an invite to the apartment.

He’s good with that.


End file.
